(Sam is forced by circumstances to become a hostage taker, but is not good
at it because he's too kind hearted. And Merry is because he is, as
endymion put it, more "unscrupulous." Can Sam beat Merry at his own game?
Read on!
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Chapter 18 - Samwise the Stouthearted
Pippin looked nearly comical as he stood in shock. His clothes were dripping in odd places from the spilled water, and long strips of cloth, meant as wound dressings, hung from his neck and arms, giving him the general appearance of a curtain that had been rained upon.
Sam moved quickly toward his new captive, watching as the quivering figure leaned right, then left, trying desperately to find a way back through the door.
"Don't be afraid, Pip" said Sam as he stepped toward him. "I just want to talk."
Sam watched in horror as Pippin breathed in deeply, obviously taking in the necessary air to produce a scream on his exhale. Sam could not risk it. With the speed of a lion, Sam tackled Pippin to the floor; Pippin's erstwhile scream transforming into an ignominious "Oomph!" as he was splayed out on the floor under Sam.
Pippin could not move a muscle, his entire body pressed into the floor by Sam's weight. Sam had taken no time to cover Pippin's mouth with his hand while the other searched blindly for one of the bandages to use as a gag.
"Sorry, Pip," breathed Sam as he pulled one of the strips out from under Pippin's body. Somehow it seemed rather cruel to bind Pippin with the clothes he'd brought to tend his own wounds but Sam was not above dabbling in cruelty if it meant being one step closer to freedom for himself and his master. Practicality demanded that this troublesome young Took be kept quiet and manageable and Samwise Gamgee was nothing if not practical.
With one hand, Sam wadded the strip into a ball, and, quickly removing the other hand from Pippin's face, he stuffed the wad into Pippin's mouth. Pippin immediately moved his hands to pull the hateful thing out. Sam quickly caught Pippin's hands in his own before they could reach their intended target. Encircling Pippin's wrists with one hand much more effectively than Merry had done, Sam pulled out a second strip, and held it under his chin as he pulled back Pippin's arms. Pippin let out a fearsome scream behind the gag as he realized what was happening. Of all the humiliations! No! No! Not again!
Pip struggled wildly to spit out the gag so he could warn Merry and redeem himself. Sam saw, and tied a rapid knot before covering Pip's mouth with a firm hand.
"No you don't Pip. We'll not be needing Mr. Merry's help in here at present!"
With Pippin's hands out of commission, Sam lifted himself off of Pippin and found a third strip to fasten the gag in Pip's mouth through a knot around his head.
Pip screeched and keened - a sound that would have been impressively loud had it not been muffled by two layers of gag. Sam stood up, a little bewildered at Pip's resistance. Pippin moaned and screamed like a cornered animal beneath the gag, obviously truly terrified. Sam felt his own guilt surge through him.
A swift kick to his shin by Pip dissolved some of Sam's guilt.
"OW!" cried Sam. "Alright then!"
Sam stomped over by the bed, and picked up some of the frayed rope that had once been his own shackle. He sat on Pip's knees as he tied Pippin's ankles together.
"There!" huffed Sam. "Now please be still. I've got little time and less patience, lad!"
Sam stood up, shocked at the decrepit sight on the floor. Pip had continued to thrash, his wretched state now emphasized by the addition of heaving, muffled sobs. The tied form shook all over, and was clearly starting to hyperventilate.
"Now calm down, Mr. Pippin.," soothed Sam. He had wanted to immobilize the little pan-swinger, certainly and maybe even frighten him a little to make him a bit more cooperative, but he hadn't counted on this kind of reaction and was a bit taken aback by it. "I'll not hurt you. Besides, I'll be needing your help soon."
Sam gently set the thrashing Took into sitting position, but was startled by the high whimper of pain that came from Pippin as he was sat down. Sam was convinced he'd been overly rough in subduing the lad. He ran the action of the last few moments back in his mind and could not, for the life of him, think of anything he may have done to have caused pain that was obviously so excruciating. Merry had once joked that Sam did not know his own strength when he had tried to hit a particularly red and juicy-looking apple from a tree with a rock and instead had taken down the entire branch, but this reaction was a bit extreme for the amount of force he thought he had used on the young hobbit. Certainly he was bigger than Pip, and maybe he had been less than careful in his use of force, but this.
"Does that hurt, Pip?"
Pippin nodded. He knew that Sam's tackle had caused some of his wounds to re-open, and could feel the wet warmth of blood soaking through the tail of his shirt and the seat of his pants. He hoped Sam would set him back on his stomach. His wounds throbbed horribly when he sat on the hard floor.
"Let's take a look, then," said Sam.
This was not the result Pippin had hoped for. Pippin shook his head emphatically and whined pitifully in protest. Sam thought this was an unaccountable reaction until he remembered Pippin's screams from the night before.
Sam ignored Pippin's protest, gently, but resolutely rolling him over on his stomach and lifting his blood-spotted shirt. Pippin heard Sam gasp and winced violently as Sam quickly lowered Pippin's trousers to get a full view of his wounds. Sam blanched as his eyes took in the damage and he forced himself to breath evenly through clenched teeth. His hands shook and attempted to fist involuntarily as he pulled Pip's trousers back up.
"Dust and Ashes, Pip!," cried Sam. "Did Mr. Merry do that to you?!"
Pippin remained silent, though the answer was obvious to Sam from the uneven pattern of breaths that Pippin was sobbing silently behind his gag.
"I'll take that as a "yes." Sam fumed and it was all he could do to prevent himself from storming down the hall, finding that poor excuse for a hobbit and teaching him what it's like to be on the receiving end of such a thrashing. 'What kind of a hobbit does something like this?' he thought.
The fear quickly occurred to Sam that this might be a mere shadow of what Frodo might be made to endure if Sam could not get them out of here. He'd known Merry was clearly not himself, but Sam had had no inkling that he was capable of such brutality. If Merry could do this to his doe-eyed little cousin, what would he do to poor Frodo?
"This was for the knife, I reckon," sighed Sam, not expecting an answer from the miserable gagged figure below him.
"Pip," announced Sam. "I am going to lift you onto the bed so we can talk. I don't want to go makin' your hurts any worse than they out'ta be, so be still."
Sam bent down and slid one arm under Pip's chest, and the other under his thighs, heaving his burden gently up and onto the bed. Sam rolled Pip on his side, and braced his back with a lumpy pillow.
"Is that alright for now, Mr. Pippin? Your backside, I mean."
Pippin nodded, his wide eyes now flowing with tears. He had so many emotions flying around in his head that he didn't know which to address first - not that it mattered much, they were all entirely unpleasant. He knew how protective Sam was of Frodo and he was fairly certain that Sam had not forgotten the frying pan incident. Although Pippin did not think Sam the vindictive type, he still couldn't help but wonder what sort of revenge the other hobbit might exact now that he was at his mercy.
He was also mortified that Sam had seen the evidence of his very undignified punishment. The words 'immature child' may as well have been branded onto his skin.
But most of all, he was horrified at the thought of disappointing Merry again. Merry was trying so hard to help Frodo and Pippin just seemed to keep making things more difficult for him. He loved both of his cousins with all his heart but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried to help, he just kept making things worse.
Sam noted with concern that Pip was still breathing very erratically, as if terrified out of his wits by some greater nameless fear.
"Now, Pip!" soothed Sam. "I'll not hurt ye. If you don't breathe normal like you'll off and pass out."
Pippin nodded weakly but continued to whimper and hyperventilate.
"Alright now," explained Sam. "I'll not unbind your hands or feet, but I'm full willing to remove your gag if you'll be sensible and not call out."
Pippin nodded.
"Now I'm going to take off this gag, Mr. Pippin," said Sam as he placed his fingers over the back knot. "No tomfoolery, Mr. Pippin, or..or .."
Sam tried to conjure up something threatening to say, but being rather new at this hostage-taking business, found himself at a loss.
Sam heaved a frustrated sigh. His version of threatening was coming off as avuncular.
"Well, Mr. Pip, I'm a fair deal stronger than you and you're in poor shape to start with! So you'd best keep quiet when this gag comes off."
Pip nodded. Sam gently untied the knot and let the gag fall to the pillow. Pippin whimpered softly, looked up at Sam with forlorn eyes, but said nothing.
"Now where's Mr. Frodo now?" asked Sam directly.
"In-in Merry's room," muttered Pippin. "Talking."
Sam shuddered. He hoped it was not the brand of talking that required a belt.
"Look here, Mr. Pippin," said Sam. "I'm takin' Mr. Frodo out of here today 'cause I don't think Mr. Merry is right in the head or in the heart right now. You can't come with us, but I don't reckon you should stay neither. I'm not sayin' I approve of your part in all this, but I think, Mr. Pippin, that Mr. Merry's capable of a good deal worse than the damage he's done to your backside, if you catch my meaning."
Pippin didn't.
"Merry loves me," Pippin whimpered.
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin in amazement. He resisted the urge to shake the bound hobbit until his brain fell back into place.
"A hobbit that would belt another black and blue ain't got no respect for the person he's doing it to!" asserted Sam pointedly. "No one who could'a done this loves you, Mr. Pip. Merry is USING you! Master Pippin- Merry does NOT love you! D'ya hear me you injured fool of a Took? Merry does not love you!"
Sam regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. Sam watched in horror as Pip's face turned to stone, a mask of fathomless despair and raw emotional agony. A shrill panicked whine sounded from the back of Pippin's throat like an alarm, eventually crescendoing into a full-fledged howl. One tear, two tears, then the damn burst and Pip broke down into such a profound burst of wracking sobs that the whole bed shook and rattled in time with his heaving, ragged breaths.
Sam, the would-be kidnapper, somehow found himself seated by his captive, shushing and cooing to him and thumbing the tears that Pippin's bound hands prevented him from reaching.
"There, there, Mr. Pip," soothed Sam. "It's going to be fine. Please stop yer crying, Mr. Pip. Please, Master Pip, shhush! Please quiet yourself lad! Please! SHUUSSSSSSSH!!"
But Pippin was inconsolable, a broken thing. Sam thought to himself that he had never laid eyes on a more miserable looking specimen than Pippin Took tied hand and foot, sobbing as if his heart had been ripped out and rent apart.
"Mr. Pippin, please, me dear, shussssh!-------"
It was no use, and Sam knew it. His soothing words only seemed to escalate Pippin's whirlpool of emotions as Pippin neared a state of hysterics. Sam felt hideous, but he had to stop this racket or fail in his primary goal, saving his Frodo.
"Nothing for it," sighed Sam, knowing full well that his next move was going to be just awful.
The look of bewilderment, helplessness and betrayal that Sam saw in Pippin's green eyes as he refastened the gag over his wailing mouth pierced Sam to the core. He was just too soft for this kidnapper business.
"Sorry Mr. Pip," sighed Sam as he patted Pippin's head gently. "But you must understand, Mr. Frodo needs saving and I'm the only one here to do it."
Muffled sobs and pitiful moans still emitted from the gag, which was already wet with tears.
"I'd a mind to have you help me," explained Sam, "to have you help me draw Mr. Merry away from Frodo but-"
Sam stopped himself just in time. Pippin, in his vulnerable state did not need to know that abused cousins made lousy bait.
"Well," continued Sam awkwardly, "I'll leave you to rest here a spell and pull yerself together while I deal with Mr. Merry."
Sam cringed as Pippin made another muffled wail at the sound of his last phrase "deal with Mr. Merry."
"I'll not hurt him, Master Pip," said Sam as he stepped towards the door. Sam finished the sentence in his own mind. "-Unless I need to and I'm fair certain I'll be needin' to."
Sam creaked the door open silently and stealthily, checking for any sign of life in the corridor. He breathed a sigh of relief first, to find the key- still stuck in the lock, and secondly, to see that it had been undiscovered. Sam rounded the door, silent as a cat, before shutting it slowly and throwing the lock. Pippin's moans were still audible for the first few paces down the corridor, but a second sound soon competed for, then won Sam's complete attention - this one coming from Merry's room. Merry's voice, raised and stern, yelling unintelligible words to an answering moan. Frodo!
Sam, now more concerned with speed than stealth, bounded through the corridor to the parlor in the desperate search for a makeshift weapon. He slid, breathless, into the large room, his eyes alighting on the nearest useful object, the poker from the hearth. He hefted it in his hands, testing its weight with a quick practice swing and was comforted by the feel of the cool iron in his grip. Then it was down the hall to the left for the kitchen. Sam needed a knife. Sam surveyed the kitchen quickly before pulling out one after one drawer after another in a frantic race against time.
Napkins! No!
Spoons! No!
Empty! No!
Knives! Yes!
Sam rifled through the drawer for the biggest carving knife he could find, knicking himself on his thumb in his haste. This knife had obviously cut into nothing worse than a pork roast; Sam desperately hoped it would remain that way. He stuck the knife under his belt and began to make for the room, carelessly leaving spatters of scarlet droplets leaking from his thumb in his wake. Wait! What else? Rope! You'll want it if you haven't got it, as his gaffer used to say. Blast! No where. No matter! Time to go! Sam approached the green door to Merry's room, first down the hall on the right. He placed his ear on the wood, and was instantly horrified by what he heard.
Whoosh! Whap! Then moans. Then silence. Then Merry's commanding voice.
Sam's veins seemed to fill with liquid fire. After what he had just seen of Pippin's backside, he didn't need his gaffer's voice in his head to tell him what was happening on the other side of the door. Sam, gripping the poker with whitened knuckles, tested the doorknob just an inch. The knob gave no resistance. Unlocked! More swooshes, more whaps, more moaning. More Merry. Sam suddenly realized that the only thing holding him back from his rescue was his own fear. Sam took a deep breath, not knowing or wanting to know what sight would greet him behind that door. Another whoosh, and Sam threw open the heavy door, catching it before it hit the opposite wall.
Then he saw it-Merry, his back to the door, belt in hand, ready to strike at the helpless figure bound to the chair. Frodo!
Frodo, restrained by the gag, could not cry out, but his eyes went wide as he made eye contact with his Sam, his savior.
Merry lowered his belt hand but did not turn.
"Pip!" Merry yelled in irritation. "I told you that Frodo and I were not to be disturbed!"
Sam stood silently in the doorway, momentarily frozen with shock.
"No matter," growled Merry. "I guess it is only appropriate that you should see the end result of your carelessness."
Merry made to strike again, raising his arm menacingly, belt in hand-
But the blow never fell.
Sam leapt across the room, poker raised in fury. Frodo flinched. Merry whirled round, but too late.
"Sa--!"
Sam swung his poker, striking Merry solidly across his back. This first blow knocked the startled hobbit to his knees in front of his erstwhile victim, his belt flopping lifeless to the ground beside its wielder. Merry wheezed and coughed, his face a mix of feral rage and corporeal pain.
"You've hurt my master, ye good fer nothin' Brandybuck and now you will pay!" exclaimed Sam as he raised his poker again. "Yer awful good at causing misery to those as can't fight back - let's see how ye do with someone who's not bound for a change!"
Sam landed a second blow to Merry's rear, this one sending him sailing, chin-first, to the floor. Sam planted his foot upon Merry's back to keep him in place.
"And THAT was to pay you back for what you done to poor little Pip!" growled Sam. "How's it feel? Villain!"
Merry did not respond, as he was nearly senseless.
Frodo moaned through his gag to remind Sam of his presence.
"Frodo!
Dropping the poker at his feet, Sam knelt down on the small of Merry's back like a pillow to tear away at Frodo's cruel bonds. Judging from the soft moans, the "pillow" did not appreciate being used as such. Sam restrained the deep urge to kick it.
Sam * violently yanked the gag down over Frodo's chin. Much to Sam's chagrin, he noticed that his master was panting and as relieved as he looked to see Sam, his eyes appeared unfocused and a little bit wild. A small rivulet of blood dripped down the corner of Frodo's mouth where he had obviously been struck. Sam glanced down and saw lines of blood seeping through Frodo's trousers on his shins.
"Me dear master!" exclaimed Sam. "What has he done?!"
"It's not important, dearest Sam," said Frodo. "Just please untie me." Frodo tried mightily to control his voice - he didn't want to frighten Sam, but if he was bound to this chair with his tormentor two feet away for one moment longer, he was afraid he would lose his wits altogether and that would do neither of them any good. Sam had done his part and given them an opportunity - now Frodo had to keep himself together so as not to ruin their chance by allowing himself to spiral into the panic that was gnawing at his every nerve. He took several deep breaths and willed himself to calm. "Where's Pippin?" he asked, darting his eyes over Sam's shoulder.
"Master Pip is indisposed at the moment," said Sam. "Not to worry," he added hastily when he saw the look that flashed in Frodo's eyes, "I haven't hurt 'im, which is more than I can say for Mister Merry. I've just made sure he won't get in the way of our leavin'. Now relax while I get this mess off you."
Sam pulled the carving knife from his belt and started sawing at the thick ropes around Frodo's shoulders, jamming fingers under the ropes as the cords began to separate to keep from slicing Frodo's shirt. After much exertion, the ropes loosened and fell slack around the chair, like a hemp moat around a wooden castle.
"Just a moment, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, looking down at his now wiggling and groaning pillow. "I've the perfect use for these cords."
Sam seized the fallen ropes in one hand, and, moving his knee from Merry's back, exuberantly, almost gleefully pulled Merry's wrists behind his back and bound them tightly with the rope. Sam grabbed a second section of rope to give his ankles a similar treatment. Merry groaned, but was too insensible to offer any resistance.
"There!" crowed Sam. "How's it feel, Sir? Have a bit of your own medicine!"
Sam considered making a gag, just for good measure. But to what purpose? Pip was in no position or mindset to attempt a rescue. Instead, Sam seized hold of the back of Merry's collar and dragged him to the center of the room.
"Stay!" ordered Sam somewhat gratuitously before padding back to free Frodo.
"Gods, Frodo!" grumbled Sam as he continued sawing. "How much rope did they need to truss you up with? There's enough rope here to wind to the Shire and back!"
"Too much," sighed Frodo. Sam's comment had made him smile despite the echoes of pain surging through his legs where the belt had bitten and the appalling numbness of his limbs from the binds.
After what seemed like hours, the last of Frodo's bonds fell lifeless and frayed to the floor. Frodo stood up shakily, taking Sam's outstretched hands in his own for support.
"Thank you Sam," said Frodo. "I was quickly tiring of that 'conversation"
"What now, Mr. Frodo?" asked Sam, whipping the sweat off his brow,
"We go, Sam. We go. And the sooner the better."
"What shall we do about Merry and Pippin?"
Frodo grimaced as he eyed the struggling figure tied up on the floor.
"That dear Sam," answered Frodo, "is a very good question."
TBC
Want more? Review! I especially want to hear from you if you are reading this, but have not yet introduced yourself! I really do want to e-meet you! And "regulars-do keep coming back! And link me up with your stories- will you!
AN: First thing I must do is plug some fics that some of you may not yet know about-First, my beta Aratlithiel has written a piece about what went through Sam's head at he stood at the dege of Mount Doom. It is called Sammauth Naur and it will take your breath away. You will eant to review and tell her to become a profession writer and not just Evil!Merry's beta! (even though we still need her to throw buckets of angst on this story!!!
Also-Some Nameless Place by Budgielover is a just charming account of what happens when the fellowship runs into trouble in a nameless town. Excellent stuff!
Calla- Yeah-I thought about that too. Its hard not to love Li'l Pip. Actaully-the dialogue between Pip and Sam here was fun to write, -especially the part where Sam is trying to be threatening, and just isn't very good at it.
Aratlithiel - My beta! Thank you for all those nice words-but I must say you really can come up with the angst like nobody's business! And, of course, people will be astounded when they see your awesome writing talents!!! I'm always humbled when I read your stuff!
Iorhael-I'm glad you caught that! I love putting familiar dialogue in new palces or in the mouths of other characters. The will be a lot of that in the chapter called "The Old Forest" (which ends a little differently that Tolkien's version, AND no Tom Bombidill in sight! OH-I hope you like it! I'm on the edge of my seat for NH as well, you know!
Natta-There are parts of this I find funny too-parts where Merry is so over the top, or parts where Sam gets some great lines. I think Sam's interaction with Pippin is funny too.
QTPie- Sam has some excellent moments in the next few chapters that should also have you cheering for him, as well as feeling very awful for his dilemma. I hope you like those too!
Cailen Braern -I know that if you like Sam here-you'll love chapters 21 and 22, though 23 will make you very sad (no-nothing awful happens-its just the angst!)
Alisaundre- Sam is on the verge of emotional exhaustion, but will not break. He is a big key to the story. And you'll get your Frodo fix!
Sue-Oh-I already feel so sorry for Pip-I really put him through the ringer I the next few chapters. You'll want to break through the computer screen and help him!
MBradford-Sam will have plenty of "Go Sam" moments next 2 chapters-I have a special favorite couple of lines that my beta and I thought up. I wont tell-but I wonder if you'll spot them!
Endymion -you hit the nail on the head, Samis not a good hostage taker because he is so kind hearted, but Merry is not. Sam will surprise you with how strong he is when it comes to helping Frodo.
Tesekian - I love your stories! I'm glad you like mine too! I worked long and hard to find out how this escape would play out. I hope I've managed as well as you!
Chapter 18 - Samwise the Stouthearted
Pippin looked nearly comical as he stood in shock. His clothes were dripping in odd places from the spilled water, and long strips of cloth, meant as wound dressings, hung from his neck and arms, giving him the general appearance of a curtain that had been rained upon.
Sam moved quickly toward his new captive, watching as the quivering figure leaned right, then left, trying desperately to find a way back through the door.
"Don't be afraid, Pip" said Sam as he stepped toward him. "I just want to talk."
Sam watched in horror as Pippin breathed in deeply, obviously taking in the necessary air to produce a scream on his exhale. Sam could not risk it. With the speed of a lion, Sam tackled Pippin to the floor; Pippin's erstwhile scream transforming into an ignominious "Oomph!" as he was splayed out on the floor under Sam.
Pippin could not move a muscle, his entire body pressed into the floor by Sam's weight. Sam had taken no time to cover Pippin's mouth with his hand while the other searched blindly for one of the bandages to use as a gag.
"Sorry, Pip," breathed Sam as he pulled one of the strips out from under Pippin's body. Somehow it seemed rather cruel to bind Pippin with the clothes he'd brought to tend his own wounds but Sam was not above dabbling in cruelty if it meant being one step closer to freedom for himself and his master. Practicality demanded that this troublesome young Took be kept quiet and manageable and Samwise Gamgee was nothing if not practical.
With one hand, Sam wadded the strip into a ball, and, quickly removing the other hand from Pippin's face, he stuffed the wad into Pippin's mouth. Pippin immediately moved his hands to pull the hateful thing out. Sam quickly caught Pippin's hands in his own before they could reach their intended target. Encircling Pippin's wrists with one hand much more effectively than Merry had done, Sam pulled out a second strip, and held it under his chin as he pulled back Pippin's arms. Pippin let out a fearsome scream behind the gag as he realized what was happening. Of all the humiliations! No! No! Not again!
Pip struggled wildly to spit out the gag so he could warn Merry and redeem himself. Sam saw, and tied a rapid knot before covering Pip's mouth with a firm hand.
"No you don't Pip. We'll not be needing Mr. Merry's help in here at present!"
With Pippin's hands out of commission, Sam lifted himself off of Pippin and found a third strip to fasten the gag in Pip's mouth through a knot around his head.
Pip screeched and keened - a sound that would have been impressively loud had it not been muffled by two layers of gag. Sam stood up, a little bewildered at Pip's resistance. Pippin moaned and screamed like a cornered animal beneath the gag, obviously truly terrified. Sam felt his own guilt surge through him.
A swift kick to his shin by Pip dissolved some of Sam's guilt.
"OW!" cried Sam. "Alright then!"
Sam stomped over by the bed, and picked up some of the frayed rope that had once been his own shackle. He sat on Pip's knees as he tied Pippin's ankles together.
"There!" huffed Sam. "Now please be still. I've got little time and less patience, lad!"
Sam stood up, shocked at the decrepit sight on the floor. Pip had continued to thrash, his wretched state now emphasized by the addition of heaving, muffled sobs. The tied form shook all over, and was clearly starting to hyperventilate.
"Now calm down, Mr. Pippin.," soothed Sam. He had wanted to immobilize the little pan-swinger, certainly and maybe even frighten him a little to make him a bit more cooperative, but he hadn't counted on this kind of reaction and was a bit taken aback by it. "I'll not hurt you. Besides, I'll be needing your help soon."
Sam gently set the thrashing Took into sitting position, but was startled by the high whimper of pain that came from Pippin as he was sat down. Sam was convinced he'd been overly rough in subduing the lad. He ran the action of the last few moments back in his mind and could not, for the life of him, think of anything he may have done to have caused pain that was obviously so excruciating. Merry had once joked that Sam did not know his own strength when he had tried to hit a particularly red and juicy-looking apple from a tree with a rock and instead had taken down the entire branch, but this reaction was a bit extreme for the amount of force he thought he had used on the young hobbit. Certainly he was bigger than Pip, and maybe he had been less than careful in his use of force, but this.
"Does that hurt, Pip?"
Pippin nodded. He knew that Sam's tackle had caused some of his wounds to re-open, and could feel the wet warmth of blood soaking through the tail of his shirt and the seat of his pants. He hoped Sam would set him back on his stomach. His wounds throbbed horribly when he sat on the hard floor.
"Let's take a look, then," said Sam.
This was not the result Pippin had hoped for. Pippin shook his head emphatically and whined pitifully in protest. Sam thought this was an unaccountable reaction until he remembered Pippin's screams from the night before.
Sam ignored Pippin's protest, gently, but resolutely rolling him over on his stomach and lifting his blood-spotted shirt. Pippin heard Sam gasp and winced violently as Sam quickly lowered Pippin's trousers to get a full view of his wounds. Sam blanched as his eyes took in the damage and he forced himself to breath evenly through clenched teeth. His hands shook and attempted to fist involuntarily as he pulled Pip's trousers back up.
"Dust and Ashes, Pip!," cried Sam. "Did Mr. Merry do that to you?!"
Pippin remained silent, though the answer was obvious to Sam from the uneven pattern of breaths that Pippin was sobbing silently behind his gag.
"I'll take that as a "yes." Sam fumed and it was all he could do to prevent himself from storming down the hall, finding that poor excuse for a hobbit and teaching him what it's like to be on the receiving end of such a thrashing. 'What kind of a hobbit does something like this?' he thought.
The fear quickly occurred to Sam that this might be a mere shadow of what Frodo might be made to endure if Sam could not get them out of here. He'd known Merry was clearly not himself, but Sam had had no inkling that he was capable of such brutality. If Merry could do this to his doe-eyed little cousin, what would he do to poor Frodo?
"This was for the knife, I reckon," sighed Sam, not expecting an answer from the miserable gagged figure below him.
"Pip," announced Sam. "I am going to lift you onto the bed so we can talk. I don't want to go makin' your hurts any worse than they out'ta be, so be still."
Sam bent down and slid one arm under Pip's chest, and the other under his thighs, heaving his burden gently up and onto the bed. Sam rolled Pip on his side, and braced his back with a lumpy pillow.
"Is that alright for now, Mr. Pippin? Your backside, I mean."
Pippin nodded, his wide eyes now flowing with tears. He had so many emotions flying around in his head that he didn't know which to address first - not that it mattered much, they were all entirely unpleasant. He knew how protective Sam was of Frodo and he was fairly certain that Sam had not forgotten the frying pan incident. Although Pippin did not think Sam the vindictive type, he still couldn't help but wonder what sort of revenge the other hobbit might exact now that he was at his mercy.
He was also mortified that Sam had seen the evidence of his very undignified punishment. The words 'immature child' may as well have been branded onto his skin.
But most of all, he was horrified at the thought of disappointing Merry again. Merry was trying so hard to help Frodo and Pippin just seemed to keep making things more difficult for him. He loved both of his cousins with all his heart but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried to help, he just kept making things worse.
Sam noted with concern that Pip was still breathing very erratically, as if terrified out of his wits by some greater nameless fear.
"Now, Pip!" soothed Sam. "I'll not hurt ye. If you don't breathe normal like you'll off and pass out."
Pippin nodded weakly but continued to whimper and hyperventilate.
"Alright now," explained Sam. "I'll not unbind your hands or feet, but I'm full willing to remove your gag if you'll be sensible and not call out."
Pippin nodded.
"Now I'm going to take off this gag, Mr. Pippin," said Sam as he placed his fingers over the back knot. "No tomfoolery, Mr. Pippin, or..or .."
Sam tried to conjure up something threatening to say, but being rather new at this hostage-taking business, found himself at a loss.
Sam heaved a frustrated sigh. His version of threatening was coming off as avuncular.
"Well, Mr. Pip, I'm a fair deal stronger than you and you're in poor shape to start with! So you'd best keep quiet when this gag comes off."
Pip nodded. Sam gently untied the knot and let the gag fall to the pillow. Pippin whimpered softly, looked up at Sam with forlorn eyes, but said nothing.
"Now where's Mr. Frodo now?" asked Sam directly.
"In-in Merry's room," muttered Pippin. "Talking."
Sam shuddered. He hoped it was not the brand of talking that required a belt.
"Look here, Mr. Pippin," said Sam. "I'm takin' Mr. Frodo out of here today 'cause I don't think Mr. Merry is right in the head or in the heart right now. You can't come with us, but I don't reckon you should stay neither. I'm not sayin' I approve of your part in all this, but I think, Mr. Pippin, that Mr. Merry's capable of a good deal worse than the damage he's done to your backside, if you catch my meaning."
Pippin didn't.
"Merry loves me," Pippin whimpered.
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin in amazement. He resisted the urge to shake the bound hobbit until his brain fell back into place.
"A hobbit that would belt another black and blue ain't got no respect for the person he's doing it to!" asserted Sam pointedly. "No one who could'a done this loves you, Mr. Pip. Merry is USING you! Master Pippin- Merry does NOT love you! D'ya hear me you injured fool of a Took? Merry does not love you!"
Sam regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. Sam watched in horror as Pip's face turned to stone, a mask of fathomless despair and raw emotional agony. A shrill panicked whine sounded from the back of Pippin's throat like an alarm, eventually crescendoing into a full-fledged howl. One tear, two tears, then the damn burst and Pip broke down into such a profound burst of wracking sobs that the whole bed shook and rattled in time with his heaving, ragged breaths.
Sam, the would-be kidnapper, somehow found himself seated by his captive, shushing and cooing to him and thumbing the tears that Pippin's bound hands prevented him from reaching.
"There, there, Mr. Pip," soothed Sam. "It's going to be fine. Please stop yer crying, Mr. Pip. Please, Master Pip, shhush! Please quiet yourself lad! Please! SHUUSSSSSSSH!!"
But Pippin was inconsolable, a broken thing. Sam thought to himself that he had never laid eyes on a more miserable looking specimen than Pippin Took tied hand and foot, sobbing as if his heart had been ripped out and rent apart.
"Mr. Pippin, please, me dear, shussssh!-------"
It was no use, and Sam knew it. His soothing words only seemed to escalate Pippin's whirlpool of emotions as Pippin neared a state of hysterics. Sam felt hideous, but he had to stop this racket or fail in his primary goal, saving his Frodo.
"Nothing for it," sighed Sam, knowing full well that his next move was going to be just awful.
The look of bewilderment, helplessness and betrayal that Sam saw in Pippin's green eyes as he refastened the gag over his wailing mouth pierced Sam to the core. He was just too soft for this kidnapper business.
"Sorry Mr. Pip," sighed Sam as he patted Pippin's head gently. "But you must understand, Mr. Frodo needs saving and I'm the only one here to do it."
Muffled sobs and pitiful moans still emitted from the gag, which was already wet with tears.
"I'd a mind to have you help me," explained Sam, "to have you help me draw Mr. Merry away from Frodo but-"
Sam stopped himself just in time. Pippin, in his vulnerable state did not need to know that abused cousins made lousy bait.
"Well," continued Sam awkwardly, "I'll leave you to rest here a spell and pull yerself together while I deal with Mr. Merry."
Sam cringed as Pippin made another muffled wail at the sound of his last phrase "deal with Mr. Merry."
"I'll not hurt him, Master Pip," said Sam as he stepped towards the door. Sam finished the sentence in his own mind. "-Unless I need to and I'm fair certain I'll be needin' to."
Sam creaked the door open silently and stealthily, checking for any sign of life in the corridor. He breathed a sigh of relief first, to find the key- still stuck in the lock, and secondly, to see that it had been undiscovered. Sam rounded the door, silent as a cat, before shutting it slowly and throwing the lock. Pippin's moans were still audible for the first few paces down the corridor, but a second sound soon competed for, then won Sam's complete attention - this one coming from Merry's room. Merry's voice, raised and stern, yelling unintelligible words to an answering moan. Frodo!
Sam, now more concerned with speed than stealth, bounded through the corridor to the parlor in the desperate search for a makeshift weapon. He slid, breathless, into the large room, his eyes alighting on the nearest useful object, the poker from the hearth. He hefted it in his hands, testing its weight with a quick practice swing and was comforted by the feel of the cool iron in his grip. Then it was down the hall to the left for the kitchen. Sam needed a knife. Sam surveyed the kitchen quickly before pulling out one after one drawer after another in a frantic race against time.
Napkins! No!
Spoons! No!
Empty! No!
Knives! Yes!
Sam rifled through the drawer for the biggest carving knife he could find, knicking himself on his thumb in his haste. This knife had obviously cut into nothing worse than a pork roast; Sam desperately hoped it would remain that way. He stuck the knife under his belt and began to make for the room, carelessly leaving spatters of scarlet droplets leaking from his thumb in his wake. Wait! What else? Rope! You'll want it if you haven't got it, as his gaffer used to say. Blast! No where. No matter! Time to go! Sam approached the green door to Merry's room, first down the hall on the right. He placed his ear on the wood, and was instantly horrified by what he heard.
Whoosh! Whap! Then moans. Then silence. Then Merry's commanding voice.
Sam's veins seemed to fill with liquid fire. After what he had just seen of Pippin's backside, he didn't need his gaffer's voice in his head to tell him what was happening on the other side of the door. Sam, gripping the poker with whitened knuckles, tested the doorknob just an inch. The knob gave no resistance. Unlocked! More swooshes, more whaps, more moaning. More Merry. Sam suddenly realized that the only thing holding him back from his rescue was his own fear. Sam took a deep breath, not knowing or wanting to know what sight would greet him behind that door. Another whoosh, and Sam threw open the heavy door, catching it before it hit the opposite wall.
Then he saw it-Merry, his back to the door, belt in hand, ready to strike at the helpless figure bound to the chair. Frodo!
Frodo, restrained by the gag, could not cry out, but his eyes went wide as he made eye contact with his Sam, his savior.
Merry lowered his belt hand but did not turn.
"Pip!" Merry yelled in irritation. "I told you that Frodo and I were not to be disturbed!"
Sam stood silently in the doorway, momentarily frozen with shock.
"No matter," growled Merry. "I guess it is only appropriate that you should see the end result of your carelessness."
Merry made to strike again, raising his arm menacingly, belt in hand-
But the blow never fell.
Sam leapt across the room, poker raised in fury. Frodo flinched. Merry whirled round, but too late.
"Sa--!"
Sam swung his poker, striking Merry solidly across his back. This first blow knocked the startled hobbit to his knees in front of his erstwhile victim, his belt flopping lifeless to the ground beside its wielder. Merry wheezed and coughed, his face a mix of feral rage and corporeal pain.
"You've hurt my master, ye good fer nothin' Brandybuck and now you will pay!" exclaimed Sam as he raised his poker again. "Yer awful good at causing misery to those as can't fight back - let's see how ye do with someone who's not bound for a change!"
Sam landed a second blow to Merry's rear, this one sending him sailing, chin-first, to the floor. Sam planted his foot upon Merry's back to keep him in place.
"And THAT was to pay you back for what you done to poor little Pip!" growled Sam. "How's it feel? Villain!"
Merry did not respond, as he was nearly senseless.
Frodo moaned through his gag to remind Sam of his presence.
"Frodo!
Dropping the poker at his feet, Sam knelt down on the small of Merry's back like a pillow to tear away at Frodo's cruel bonds. Judging from the soft moans, the "pillow" did not appreciate being used as such. Sam restrained the deep urge to kick it.
Sam * violently yanked the gag down over Frodo's chin. Much to Sam's chagrin, he noticed that his master was panting and as relieved as he looked to see Sam, his eyes appeared unfocused and a little bit wild. A small rivulet of blood dripped down the corner of Frodo's mouth where he had obviously been struck. Sam glanced down and saw lines of blood seeping through Frodo's trousers on his shins.
"Me dear master!" exclaimed Sam. "What has he done?!"
"It's not important, dearest Sam," said Frodo. "Just please untie me." Frodo tried mightily to control his voice - he didn't want to frighten Sam, but if he was bound to this chair with his tormentor two feet away for one moment longer, he was afraid he would lose his wits altogether and that would do neither of them any good. Sam had done his part and given them an opportunity - now Frodo had to keep himself together so as not to ruin their chance by allowing himself to spiral into the panic that was gnawing at his every nerve. He took several deep breaths and willed himself to calm. "Where's Pippin?" he asked, darting his eyes over Sam's shoulder.
"Master Pip is indisposed at the moment," said Sam. "Not to worry," he added hastily when he saw the look that flashed in Frodo's eyes, "I haven't hurt 'im, which is more than I can say for Mister Merry. I've just made sure he won't get in the way of our leavin'. Now relax while I get this mess off you."
Sam pulled the carving knife from his belt and started sawing at the thick ropes around Frodo's shoulders, jamming fingers under the ropes as the cords began to separate to keep from slicing Frodo's shirt. After much exertion, the ropes loosened and fell slack around the chair, like a hemp moat around a wooden castle.
"Just a moment, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, looking down at his now wiggling and groaning pillow. "I've the perfect use for these cords."
Sam seized the fallen ropes in one hand, and, moving his knee from Merry's back, exuberantly, almost gleefully pulled Merry's wrists behind his back and bound them tightly with the rope. Sam grabbed a second section of rope to give his ankles a similar treatment. Merry groaned, but was too insensible to offer any resistance.
"There!" crowed Sam. "How's it feel, Sir? Have a bit of your own medicine!"
Sam considered making a gag, just for good measure. But to what purpose? Pip was in no position or mindset to attempt a rescue. Instead, Sam seized hold of the back of Merry's collar and dragged him to the center of the room.
"Stay!" ordered Sam somewhat gratuitously before padding back to free Frodo.
"Gods, Frodo!" grumbled Sam as he continued sawing. "How much rope did they need to truss you up with? There's enough rope here to wind to the Shire and back!"
"Too much," sighed Frodo. Sam's comment had made him smile despite the echoes of pain surging through his legs where the belt had bitten and the appalling numbness of his limbs from the binds.
After what seemed like hours, the last of Frodo's bonds fell lifeless and frayed to the floor. Frodo stood up shakily, taking Sam's outstretched hands in his own for support.
"Thank you Sam," said Frodo. "I was quickly tiring of that 'conversation"
"What now, Mr. Frodo?" asked Sam, whipping the sweat off his brow,
"We go, Sam. We go. And the sooner the better."
"What shall we do about Merry and Pippin?"
Frodo grimaced as he eyed the struggling figure tied up on the floor.
"That dear Sam," answered Frodo, "is a very good question."
TBC
Want more? Review! I especially want to hear from you if you are reading this, but have not yet introduced yourself! I really do want to e-meet you! And "regulars-do keep coming back! And link me up with your stories- will you!
AN: First thing I must do is plug some fics that some of you may not yet know about-First, my beta Aratlithiel has written a piece about what went through Sam's head at he stood at the dege of Mount Doom. It is called Sammauth Naur and it will take your breath away. You will eant to review and tell her to become a profession writer and not just Evil!Merry's beta! (even though we still need her to throw buckets of angst on this story!!!
Also-Some Nameless Place by Budgielover is a just charming account of what happens when the fellowship runs into trouble in a nameless town. Excellent stuff!
Calla- Yeah-I thought about that too. Its hard not to love Li'l Pip. Actaully-the dialogue between Pip and Sam here was fun to write, -especially the part where Sam is trying to be threatening, and just isn't very good at it.
Aratlithiel - My beta! Thank you for all those nice words-but I must say you really can come up with the angst like nobody's business! And, of course, people will be astounded when they see your awesome writing talents!!! I'm always humbled when I read your stuff!
Iorhael-I'm glad you caught that! I love putting familiar dialogue in new palces or in the mouths of other characters. The will be a lot of that in the chapter called "The Old Forest" (which ends a little differently that Tolkien's version, AND no Tom Bombidill in sight! OH-I hope you like it! I'm on the edge of my seat for NH as well, you know!
Natta-There are parts of this I find funny too-parts where Merry is so over the top, or parts where Sam gets some great lines. I think Sam's interaction with Pippin is funny too.
QTPie- Sam has some excellent moments in the next few chapters that should also have you cheering for him, as well as feeling very awful for his dilemma. I hope you like those too!
Cailen Braern -I know that if you like Sam here-you'll love chapters 21 and 22, though 23 will make you very sad (no-nothing awful happens-its just the angst!)
Alisaundre- Sam is on the verge of emotional exhaustion, but will not break. He is a big key to the story. And you'll get your Frodo fix!
Sue-Oh-I already feel so sorry for Pip-I really put him through the ringer I the next few chapters. You'll want to break through the computer screen and help him!
MBradford-Sam will have plenty of "Go Sam" moments next 2 chapters-I have a special favorite couple of lines that my beta and I thought up. I wont tell-but I wonder if you'll spot them!
Endymion -you hit the nail on the head, Samis not a good hostage taker because he is so kind hearted, but Merry is not. Sam will surprise you with how strong he is when it comes to helping Frodo.
Tesekian - I love your stories! I'm glad you like mine too! I worked long and hard to find out how this escape would play out. I hope I've managed as well as you!